


together in the quiet

by themayflynans



Series: here we have [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Jet Lag, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Slice of Life, St. Petersburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13344330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayflynans/pseuds/themayflynans
Summary: Yuuri wakes up jet-lagged the morning after his and Victor's return to Saint Petersburg from the Four Continents Championship.





	together in the quiet

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Day 4 of [domesticvictuuriweek](http://domesticvictuuriweek.tumblr.com) for the prompt "Coffee," though the boys are also having something of a cuddle here too. A little. It's nothing *handwave*.
> 
> More eternal gratitude to [Kitsunebi_UK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsunebi_UK/pseuds/Kitsunebi_UK), not only for the beta but also for coming up with the idea of jetlag when I was stuck on thinking of something to write about coffee, of all things. I _love_ coffee. I thought I could write oodles of odes to coffee. Apparently not.

“Yuuuuuuuri,” cooed Victor’s velvet voice into Yuuri’s ear as he gently shook his shoulder. “You’ve got to wake up. Come on, there’s coffee. Wake up.”

“Nnnnnngh,” he responded, keeping his eyes clamped firmly shut. “Too early. I set an alarm. N’time is it?”

“You slept through your alarm, _zolotse_. It’s 11:00am. You can’t sleep all day, you know it’ll make practice miserable for you tomorrow. I took Makka for her walk and we got you coffee.”

As if on cue, Yuuri heard the distinct _tack-tack_ of Makkachin's nails on the floor of the bedroom before he felt the impact of her full weight landing on the bed. She gently nudged at his temple with her cold wet nose, followed by a few licks, before she settled at the foot of the bed. Mercifully, she did not bark.

Though every cell in his body was beseeching him to reconsider what he was about to do, Yuuri finally turned over to face where he knew Victor was standing by the bed. He could smell the cold on his coat, and caught a waft of the promised coffee as he pried open his eyes.

He squinted up into the gently smiling face of his fiancé. A face that looked not at all like it had woken up the morning after two days of travel from Gangneung, where Yuuri had won his first gold medal at the Four Continents, to Saint Petersburg, with barely a night’s rest in between. A face that had never, apparently, experienced jet lag. Stupid perfect face. Stupid perfect Victor.

“ _Ohayou_ , sleepyhead!” chirped stupid perfect Victor, setting the steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table as he crouched down to bestow a quick kiss on Yuuri’s forehead.

Yuuri felt his resolve to be extra-grumpy at the prospect of a long day of struggling to remain awake ahead of him evaporate on the spot. “Morning,” he sighed. “Love you. Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re most welcome, my Yuuri. I love you, too, which is why I am not going easy on you today. Or at practice tomorrow, regardless of how you hold up today. That’s how I’ll show my love.” He winked as he quoted his own words from several months ago, and then stood back up and headed to the closet.

Yuuri took a moment to enjoy the view as Victor changed out of his jeans and sweater and back into his house clothes. After a few seconds, he mustered up the energy to toss the covers aside and heave himself up and out of bed. He trudged towards the bathroom as slowly as he could.

When he returned to the bedroom, feeling marginally more alive, it was to the arresting image of Victor sitting in bed, bathed in the late morning sunlight, scrolling idly on his phone as he nursed his own mug of what looked like genmaicha.

Victor had taken to the tea more than Yuuri ever had and had stocked up on a supply to tide them over in Saint Petersburg until they next returned to Hasetsu. Hasetsu, specifically. It just didn’t taste the same from anywhere except the shop where Yuuri’s parents bought their own groceries, he claimed, even though it was a brand sold in supermarkets all over Japan and in some specialty stores abroad.

Yuuri settled back in next to Victor and picked up his own mug, the earthy and unmistakable aroma of strong black coffee filling his nostrils as he took a sip. He sighed and rested his head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor set his phone down and nuzzled his chin into Yuuri’s hair.  

A few moments of silence passed in which the only sounds in the room were Makka’s little huffs and sniffles as she settled into her nap, and the occasional thuds and scrapes and sipping noises of coffee mugs being picked up and drunk from and set back down. Yuuri did not feel at all compelled to break it; if there was one thing that he and Victor both cherished dearly, it was mornings or afternoons or nights like these, when they were sitting together after something loud or crowded or otherwise exhausting, just existing in the quiet.

Yuuri had never known quiet like this before he’d moved to Saint Petersburg to live with Victor. In Hasetsu, there was always a noise to be heard: Throughout the day, the voices of guests at the resort and the staticky sound of the television in the dining room and the _clang_ of pots and pans in the kitchen were a constant backdrop. At night, when all the guests had left, there was always the sound of water running somewhere, or of the rustle of the _sakura_ branches swaying outside his window in the breeze.

It had taken him a while to get used to sleeping without that white noise in Detroit, and a while again when he’d moved to Saint Petersburg.

“You haven’t fallen back asleep already, have you?” Yuuri felt Victor’s jaw move where his cheek was pressed to the top of his head.

“Not _yet_ ,” Yuuri teased. “I’m enjoying the calm before the shitstorm when I’ll be falling asleep standing in a few hours. I can feel it. You’ll have to give me coffee in an IV drip.”

He grabbed Victor’s right hand where it rested between their bodies on the mattress and lifted it to his lips, kissing the golden band on his finger. The wish and the promise.

_Oh._

All at once, the realization came crashing down on him—down, down, through his head and his throat and down his windpipe, into his heart and his belly and down to his toes, stronger than any coffee, electrifying everywhere it touched. He sat up straight and turned to Victor, whose wide eyes told him that he was thinking the exact same thing.

He’d won his first gold medal at the Four Continents.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathed. He hadn’t known he was shaking until he heard himself speak.

“Yes.”

“Are we going to—”

“ _Yes_. We are. Please, Yuuri.  Let’s get married. Let’s go today.” The words rushed out of Victor in a garble. He gripped Yuuri’s hand in both of his own, tight, looking almost afraid.

Yuuri surged forward and kissed Victor hard, and rather badly, their teeth clacking audibly in the silence of the bedroom. He distantly heard the sound of Makka hopping off the bed at the sudden disturbance, nails _tack_ _ing_ once more as she ambled out the door.

When they broke apart, Yuuri rested his forehead on Victor’s, smiling as he looked into his still-wide blue eyes, almost too close to properly focus on them. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that it threatened to upend the level silence in which this momentous event was taking place.

“Yes, let’s go get married,” Yuuri said. “Let’s get married _every single time_ we come back from international travel. I’ll never be jet-lagged again.”

**Author's Note:**

> You definitely want to have at least a bit of a squee or perhaps a flail after that. Maybe? If so, please do it in the comments. Because I'm. How do you say??? Thirsty.
> 
> Come yell with/at me on [Tumblr](http://themayflynans.tumblr.com).


End file.
